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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141430">kataomoi</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorAE86/pseuds/sailorAE86'>sailorAE86</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Floral Heartache [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Initial D</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Flowers, Fluff, M/M, OR IS IT, Pining, Unrequited Love, also carnations are my favorite type of flowers, itsuki has flower power for whatever reason, just go with it ok, kataomoi is my favorite thing ever, keikumi, takumi doesn't realize things until they're right in front of him, thank god he's cute because he's an idiot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:09:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorAE86/pseuds/sailorAE86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Over half a year had passed since that fateful September day when lusciously red roses had arrived for him at Esso. Attached to it was a card, signed by the impeccable Akagi White Comet himself. It had been the only time he had received flowers in his life.</p><p>Until now, that is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fujiwara Takumi/Takahashi Keisuke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Floral Heartache [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>kataomoi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm a sucker for anything related to unrequited love, and that combined with Keikumi is stuff that I just want injected into my veins. Some song suggestions for this piece include:<br/>- Nothin' On (But The Radio) - Lady Gaga<br/>- Sleepless Beauty from the anime Gravitation<br/>- Some Say - Nea</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t often that Takumi Fujiwara received flowers.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, he received plenty of attention from the opposite sex. Girls had always considered him to be rather cute, with some going to the extent of calling him <em> “hot”. </em> In crowded school hallways, they would eye him, not so discreetly whispering to one another about something involving him before erupting into blushing giggles. At high strung race galleries, his name would be shouted by awestruck, higher pitched voices, acting as a failed siren call that the young driver would never hear. Even at restaurants throughout the Gunma area (and occasionally past the Gunma border), waitresses would flash much broader smiles when taking his order, allowing their grins to slip away when turning their focus to the likes of Iketani, Itsuki, and Kenji.</p><p> </p><p>For as much recognition as he received, Takumi was none the wiser. He had been a bit of an oblivious space case his entire life, as everyone close to him so fondly loved to remind him. However, his ability to take no notice of anything was magnified by at least a thousand when it came to women. His friends knew it, the women who hit on him knew it, and maybe even a small part of Takumi knew it. That tiny bit of awareness was why it never bothered him that he lacked floral gifts.</p><p> </p><p>In the first place, Takumi always thought men gave the women bouquets. It was merely a preconceived notion occupying his constantly exhausted mind. The idea wasn’t one that he believed should be upheld no matter what - he just knew that when it came to himself, Takumi would be far too embarrassed to ever <em> want </em> to accept flowers from a girl. </p><p> </p><p>Not to mention that there wasn’t exactly a girl to give flowers to or receive flowers from. Just a week ago, he had graduated, meeting Mogi at Lake Akina afterwards. She was going to Tokyo for college, and urged Takumi to come along with her. But he couldn’t, and he’d made that clear. Well, as clear as his “weird” mind could. He’d explained that to Mogi, though, and after shedding a million tears, she’d wished him luck. </p><p> </p><p><em> Luck. </em> He wondered if he’d need it. After all, it wasn’t everyday that Ryosuke Takahashi invited you to join his elite race team known as Project D.</p><p> </p><p>Ryosuke Takahashi - that name brought him full circle to his current situation. Over half a year had passed since that fateful September day when lusciously red roses had arrived for him at Esso. Attached to it was a card, signed by the impeccable Akagi White Comet himself. It had been the only time he had received flowers in his life.</p><p> </p><p>Until now, that is.</p><p> </p><p>They were carnations; Takumi understood that much. Although he very clearly lacked one, all of Japan would be bustling to find these exact flowers and present them to their <em> maternal unit </em>on Mother’s Day. Pink ones, symbolizing, well, a mother’s love, could be found at every gas station and grocery store. And that said nothing of the flower shops that would practically drown with them during late April and early May.</p><p> </p><p>But these weren’t those soft, chaste pink flowers that garnered equally soft and chaste love. These were… different.</p><p> </p><p>The frilly, ruffled blossoms were predominately white, with the lace-like petals fanning out into a deep, rich red along the ends. Some of the crimson seeped even lower, bleeding little spots onto the pure ivory.</p><p> </p><p>They were absolutely stunning, sedentary in their cylindrical glass vase atop the small table in the living room. A creamy card dangled off the red ribbon fastened around the vase. The penmanship was harsh, with rounded or smooth characters being notably absent, instead having sharp edges. A short message had been written with heavy black ink, giving off waves of intensity and passion.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Am I not good enough?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Directly below it, in that same handwriting, was a name.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “-Keisuke” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>For as gorgeous as the flowers were, Takumi had no idea what they or the attached note meant. As though he were afraid the vivid scarlet would burn him, he gently rubbed the end of one of the petals with a fingertip. It felt like ardent velvet.</p><p> </p><p>Pulling back, he contemplated the color. Pink meant maternal adoration and purity, but what about striped red? And why, of all the people to be accruing carnations from, were they from Keisuke Takahashi? Since agreeing to join Project D, he and Keisuke had been getting along quite well and growing closer. In fact, Takumi would go as far as to deem them friends. Or, almost friends. Though training was in it’s infancy, plenty of nights were spent on the mountaintop leaning against either the eight-six or the FD, a warm can of bitter coffee in hand and Keisuke by his side. Sometimes they would sit in content silence. Other times their laughter could be heard floating across the dark pavement; the smoke from the cigarette hanging out of Keisuke’s mouth traveling upwards. </p><p> </p><p>Takumi had just begun to feel comfortable around the blonde, so why now? Taking Ryosuke’s challenge under the pretense of a delivery of roses into consideration, he briefly wondered if this was Keisuke’s method of provoking him. The emotion laden piece of paper said otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>Thoughts of Itsuki suddenly flooded into Takumi’s mind. His enthusiastic best friend had been enthralled by absorbing as much flower knowledge as he could several weeks ago. Apparently, Kenji had said it would “attract <em> tons </em> of chicks”, and like the blind follower he was, Itsuki soon became a floriculturist.</p><p> </p><p>Pushing back the curtain, Takumi moved towards the telephone, grateful that his old man wasn’t around to see this. He dialed Itsuki’s number and waited anxiously.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey man, what’s up?” Itsuki said optimistically on the fourth ring.</p><p> </p><p>“Not much, I was just wondering if you could tell me about a type of flower,” Takumi replied tentatively, choking back his nervousness. He curled the cord around his finger in apprehension.</p><p> </p><p>The five second pause felt like a nerve wracking, heart pounding eternity. “A flower? Yeah, I can do that,” he said hesitantly, “but what do you need it for?”</p><p> </p><p>The cord wound around his finger tighter. “Nothing really, I was just curious.” Takumi had never been one for making convincing excuses and he knew exactly just how lame his response sounded.</p><p> </p><p>Itsuki didn’t believe that for a second, but he thankfully decided not to press the matter further. “Oh, well, what is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a red striped carnation, I think.”</p><p> </p><p>Itsuki momentarily pondered his answer before replying with, “I mean, carnations in general symbolize things like eternal grief, love, and loyalty. And red ones usually mean deep love. But,” he added, “striped carnations mean rejection or regret. So as a whole, I would say red striped carnations represent unrequited love.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Unrequited love. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Kataomoi. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Something twisted in Takumi’s heart, and he hurriedly thanked Itsuki and hung up, barely hearing his outcry of “you better tell me what this is about later!”. </p><p> </p><p>Takumi stepped towards the flowers yet again, feeling that twist morph into a stifling ache. Keisuke Takahashi, <em> the </em> Keisuke Takahashi, had sent him carnations. Red striped carnations. Red striped carnations that symbolized the devastating emotion known as the deceptively beautiful word <em> kataomoi </em>.</p><p> </p><p>And then the sensation in his heart changed for the second time, molding into something entirely different. The ache became a pang - a very specific pang that Takumi grasped completely. The oblivious space case abruptly knew and understood all of it.</p><p> </p><p>Keisuke had sent him red striped carnations that symbolized unrequited love. Except, Keisuke’s love for him wasn’t unrequited.</p>
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